Author's Note: Don't worry; the story is over. But I thought I'd alert all of you who still have this story on alert about the sequel. Because, well, I was bored and thought that some of you may appreciate that. Here is a snippet of the recently posted sequel, The Mind of a Really Lovesick Graduated Marauder. Click on my my profile and venture down if you would like to read it.

By the way, thanks so much for all of the reviews I've gotten since the last chapter. And believe me, that's a lot of reviews for a girl who's barely a teenager, broke, and still doesn't know the difference between her left and right.

Disclaimer: Don't own it!

And then there were two.

"Well, we best be off," I muttered, shooting him a quick smile as I straightened my cloak.

Remus nodded, returning the smile. "Yes. Hey, and Prongs," he clapped a hand against my shoulder, "thanks for this."

He's best off not getting used to it.

"Anytime, Moony, anytime," I replied lazily, straightening my glasses. "I'll meet you there." With a roguish grin, I Disapparated from the spot. There was the familiar tugging of my bellybutton and a loud crack. Moments later, I opened my eyes, faced with a mahogany door. The mahogany door leading to the Potter mansion, to be more specific.

I looked around once. The green fields had yellowed. Which was actually pretty easy to believe, as there was no one to fix it. Unless Uncle Henry, who chose to be buried in these fields, suddenly was revived and decided to start his new life as a zombie by maintaining the grass.

My attention returned back to the door. I brought my hand to the doorknob, ready to enter house after six months, but stopped as I spotted a note taped magically to the knob. Confused, I took the note off and squinted, reading the fine print slowly:

Dear Mr. Potter,

We have been required to inform you that all your possessions, including this property, are currently not of your belonging for now. Dorea Potter has made it clear to us in her will that she does not want you to get your inherited valuables until you are of the age of twenty. You may pick up your supplies anytime after you are of the required age. Until then, your mother's possessions are in your safe at Gringotts Wizarding Bank.

Sincerely,

The Staff at Gringotts

I blinked, removing my gaze from the letter. Well, I honestly hadn't been expecting that of all things.

"What happened?"

I jumped, startled, and whirled around to see Remus standing behind me.

"Merlin, Moony, I didn't hear you Apparate," I muttered, tousling my hair.

"Shows how daft you are, Prongs," Remus muttered, smirking tauntingly as he snatched the letter from my hand. His eyes scanned it for a few seconds and moments later, a similar look of shock came over his face.

Suddenly, his eyes averted to mine, looking lost. "We can't not have a place to go."

I laughed dryly, taking the paper back. "According to the sodding letter we don't." Annoyed, I shredded the letter and let it scatter on the floor. "Looks like we're both homeless."